


Postscript

by SIGF



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Epistolary, Ferdibert Week 2019, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schrodinger's Ferdinand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-04-21 08:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22055677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SIGF/pseuds/SIGF
Summary: Following the events of Crimson Flower, Ferdinand and Hubert are separated as the Empire secretly prepares to go to war against Those Who Slither in the Dark. During their time apart, they must face the challenges of maintaining a long-distance relationship in the midst of approaching war, while also trying to face their fears of losing each other.--Written for Ferdibert Week 2019 (belated)Day 2 Prompt: War
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 28
Kudos: 155





	Postscript

**Author's Note:**

> This is a VERY belated work for Ferdibert Week, ack! Actually, what spurred me to hurry up and finish this is that AO3 was going to delete my draft in… oh, about 30 minutes from now.

**Date: November 21, 1186**

The world ended with a bang… Hubert’s world, that is.

Javelins dropping from the sky, a bright flash - then another - finally culminating in a resounding boom. All while Hubert watched safely from a distance, ironically sitting upon _his_ \- Ferdinand's - former horse. Too far away to even feel the resulting shock wave as anything other than a slight, pleasant breeze.

His pupils dilated as the lingering light from the explosion reflected in his eyes, although the reaction wasn’t purely physiological. Neither was the wet sheen that subsequently covered them, an unwelcome - and surprising - deluge that threatened to spill over if he dared to move, blink, breathe… acknowledge.

_ “What just happened here?”_

_ “The fort… it’s just… gone.”_

As a general, it was Hubert’s responsibility to calm the terrified and anguished voices of the soldiers around him, that much he knew… and yet, the words of reassurance were too busy strangling him to be spoken, burning false within his throat like a hot poker fresh from the fire.

Fort Merceus was _ destroyed_, gone, as was everyone within it… as was…

“General, what… what should we do?”

The question was directed at Hubert, but he could barely hear it while still trapped within despair's all-consuming embrace. And yet, it wasn’t supposed to be like this… back when he’d first let himself succumb to his feelings for Ferdinand, he’d rationalized that there was no real harm in it, since if this moment were to come, he would already know what to expect. He’d been through something similar before, as it were - the day that Lady Edelgard had been whisked away to the Kingdom by Lord Arundel…

_ “The sensation of loss that overcame me that day defies all description. It was as horrific, as if I'd lost all my limbs.”_

How foolish. When he'd said those words to Her Majesty, he'd thought he recalled that feeling with perfect clarity - devastating, of course, but ultimately survivable. Yet, apparently, all he’d actually done was hold a memory up beneath a crystal lens.

… Either that, or to lose Ferdinand was something else entirely. Because _ this_ wasn’t survivable. This was…

“General Vestra? … Sir? Should we turn around and return to Enbarr?”

Swallowing, Hubert cleared his throat, willing his voice to return to him.

“No. We will press on to Fort Merceus. We were sent by Her Majesty to provide reinforcements… and there may still be survivors in need of our aid.”

He didn’t need to turn to see their skeptical looks - or to hear them whispering amongst each other, wondering how anyone could survive… _ that_. But without anything else to cling to besides the most minute vestiges of hope, Hubert indulged himself so that he could continue to adequately inhale and exhale.

And yet, had… had he really only imagined the small black flecks in the air at the time of the explosion? A trick of the eyes - or, perhaps, the heart? One of whom could have been…

During their time at the academy, the Professor had challenged Ferdinand to learn combat on a wyvern, despite his preference for horses - and five years later, even gave Ferdinand's trusted steed to Hubert for use in battle - despite Hubert having no penchant himself for the wretched beasts. Back then, Hubert had thought the Professor a whimsical fool, but now… if Ferdinand had been airborne at the time of the explosion, then perhaps…

Well, wasn’t it ironic, that his denial - that his complete refusal of reality - was also his last remaining claim to sanity?

… And if that final thread were to be cut, what would then remain of him?

* * *

**Date written: May 30, 1186 (almost six months earlier)**  
**Date read: June 4, 1186**

General Vestra,

I am writing to let you know that I am well settled at Fort Merceus - and thankfully so. For such a strategic location, we should not have left this fort without effective leadership for so long, even in a time of _[illegible: <strike>planning</strike>]_ peace.

With that in mind, I have found some of the supplies and staff lacking, and therefore have included a requisition order with this letter. Would you see to its approval?

_[barely legible: <strike>Yours Always, Ferdinand</strike>]_

Sincerely,  
General Ferdinand von Aegir

P.S. Hubert, would you please be sure to take special care of Áine while I am gone? Although he is - under protest - your steed now, he and I will have never been apart for this long. I already miss him dearly, and I worry that he must feel the same.

* * *

**Date written: June 6, 1186**  
**Date read: June 12, 1186**

General Aegir,

Perhaps you forget that we’ve just limped our way out of a five-year war, and the gold in our coffers is running low? I granted you two-thirds of the supplies and staff that you requested - be grateful for that much. Besides, the last thing we need is to raise suspicion with our former enemies.

Y.A.  
~H

P.S. Really, Ferdinand? The blasted horse again? I’ll send the damn thing over to Merceus if it’s that much of an issue, and find another for my own use.

* * *

**Date written: June 12, 1186**  
**Date read: June 17, 1186**

General Vestra,

I can assure you that I already requested the minimum number of munitions and staff required to properly defend a fort of this size, even in a time of tenuous peace. Should _[illegible: <strike>snakes</strike>]_ remaining Kingdom factions somehow become aware of increased activity at the fort, then they surely would not see it as anything out of the ordinary, as long as they have any level of military knowledge at all. As of now, we are still undermanned and lacking in arms.

Y.A.  
Ferdinand

P.S. Hubert… are you actually jealous of _[legible: <strike>my</strike>]_ your horse? First of all, Áine is not a “thing,” he is a “he.” Second, do you have any idea how long it would take to train another warhorse? You cannot just “find another” with ease. And, third… I must admit, I do like the idea of my two boys taking care of each other whilst I cannot be with them. I would prefer that he stays with you.

P.P.S. Since it apparently needs to be explicitly said, I miss you dearly, too… you ass.

* * *

**Date written: June 23, 1186**  
**Date read: June 29, 1186**

General Aegir,

The remaining portion of your requisition has been approved by Her Majesty. As always, she is forever gracious. Expect arrival shortly.

Y.A.  
~H

P.S. How is it that you make me want to kiss you and strangle you at the same time? … And, for what it’s worth, it appears that the damn horse does, in fact, miss you. (As do I.)

* * *

**Date written: July 11, 1186**  
**Date read: July 18, 1186**

General Vestra,

Thank you for the soldiers and supplies. However, I admit… I was a little disappointed when you did not arrive with them. From your wording, I thought that you were planning to pay _[barely legible: <strike>me</strike>]_ Merceus a visit.

Y.A.  
Ferdinand

P.S. Being apart from you for this length of time is much more difficult than I thought it would be. Do you long for me like I long for you - especially at night? Goddess, I even brewed myself a pot of coffee yesterday to try and recall the taste of you… and for that, I have been awake the entire night, only to be tortured further by thoughts of you.

P.P.S. In case you are longing for me as I do you, I posed for a special drawing and enclosed it with this letter. I hope you enjoy it, my darling. It was quite uncomfortable to lie that way on a ballista for several hours, I will have you know.

* * *

**Date written: July 18, 1186**  
**Date read: July 26, 1186**

General Aegir,

It should come as no surprise to you that I am far too busy to be making personal deliveries.

Sincerely,  
~H. von Vestra

P.S. I request that you provide the name and rank of the soldier for whom you posed.

* * *

**Date written: July 31, 1186**  
**Date read: August 5, 1186**

General Vestra,

It is evident from your most recent correspondence that you are angry with me. I was rather expecting - and hoping - that you would have been pleased with my last letter and its contents. 

In any case, I do not wish for us to act so hostilely toward each other in the midst of such uncertain events.

Y.A.  
Ferdinand

P.S. No. Grow up, Hubert.

* * *

**Date written: August 24, 1186**  
**Date read: September 1, 1186**

Hubert,

How dare you!

I received notification today that seventeen of my soldiers are to be transferred to other posts throughout Adrestia. And the tying thread between them? Well, as I happen to know, it is that they all have some measure of artistic talent.

Did you actually use your spy network to find out thus of my staff, and then reassign all them out of petty jealousy? I am… incensed does not even begin to cover it.

_[no closing]_  
Ferdinand von Aegir _[angrily scribbled]_

_[no postscript]_

* * *

**Date written: September 7, 1186**  
**Date read: September 15, 1186**

_[sent using the personal von Vestra seal rather than the seal of the Minister of Interior Affairs]_

Ferdinand,

I am… ashamed by my behavior. You are right - it was a gross misuse of power, and performed solely out of petty jealousy. I’ve already reversed the transfer, but barring that, I don’t know what more to do… other than apologize.

I am sorry, Ferdinand… my dearest Ferdie. But the thought of another man - or woman - seeing you bare like that, while I am here and so helplessly far away…

After all, what person could stare at the sun in such a manner, and not be enamored by its radiance? As it is, I have no doubt that you are the light that everyone at Fort Merceus revolves around, that they all must be drawn to you in the same powerless way that I was… that I am.

While we’re apart, I often find myself musing on how long it will be before one of the “dreamy knights” you would so love to speak of finally catches your eye, and then you will wonder why you are wasting your time with the brooding grump who is waiting for you in Enbarr… longing for you…

Your Devoted,  
~H

P.S. Forgive me. This distance from you is taking its toll on me. After all, I love you, Ferdinand. More than I ever thought I was capable of… and certainly more than I should.

But because of that, my judgment has been compromised, and I fear that I am no longer making decisions in the best interest of Her Majesty and the Empire. Therefore, I believe we should consider a temporary separation until Her Majesty’s final quest has been completed. From now on, please ensure that all correspondence to me is related only to military affairs or business concerning Adrestia.

Trust me - it is for the best. And if you find you must seek another’s comfort during this time, then I will understand… and I will bear it.

* * *

**Date written: September 15, 1186**  
**Date read: November 7, 1186**

_[paper covered with dried wet spots]_

_[no greeting]_  
_[letter increasingly illegible]_

Goddess damn it, Hubert. Did you really just break up with me? And in a postscript? How could you write such beautiful things, and then just… just… damn you, Hubert!

And what did you mean by, “if you find you must seek another’s comfort during this time then I will understand, and I will bear it.” Do you mean that you plan to seek another’s comfort? Because if you do, so help me, I will not _[underlined three times]_ understand, and I will not _[underlined three times]_ bear it.

_[no closing}_  
Ferdinand von Aegir _[angrily scribbled]_

P.S. You are a proper bastard, do you know that?

* * *

**Date written: October 10, 1186**  
**Date read: November 7, 1186**

General Vestra,

It has not escaped my notice that you did not respond to my previous letter. Please consider this to be the formal correspondence that you so specifically requested.

I have heard reports that the plague is spreading in Enbarr, but the information I have received is limited. I request that you respond immediately to let me know that you - and also Edelgard and Dorothea - are all well. I expect your response to be written and returned to me posthaste.

Sincerely,  
General Ferdinand von Aegir

P.S. Hubert… please.

* * *

**Date written: October 25, 1186**  
**Date read: November 7, 1186**

Hubert,

You are being unnecessarily cruel. I am going out of my mind with worry that the plague has taken you. Goddess, damn it - just tell me that you are alive!

_[no closing]_

_[hastily written]_  
P.S. If I do not receive a response from you within [illegible: <strike>two</strike>] [illegible: <strike>four</strike>] three weeks' time, then I am coming to Enbarr myself.

* * *

**Date written: November 7, 1186**  
**Date read: November 13, 1186**

General Aegir,

I am alive and well - as is Her Majesty, and also Miss Arnault. Fortunately, the plague was properly contained before it could spread throughout the city.

One of the ways in which it was contained was by quarantining Enbarr - meaning, no messengers or letters were coming into the city, or out of it. I did not receive any of your letters until today due to the quarantine. Had you been thinking more clearly, you would have realized this.

And now, perhaps you understand the point I was trying to make in my last letter? The one that had you so upset?

Sincerely,  
~H. von Vestra

P.S. I will remind you once more that the Empire must come first, and had you abandoned your post, you would have been stripped of your military rank. You are the Prime Minister to Her Majesty, and as long as our military is still active, a leading Adrestian general - now act like it. We must strive to rise above such personal feelings in our service to Her Majesty.

* * *

**Date written: November 16, 1186**  
**Unread**

_[hastily written]_

Ferdinand,

I've heard reports that Those Who Slither in the Dark are marching on Fort Merceus. Do not underestimate their power! Remember Arianrhod, which you now know was their doing.

This letter will arrive shortly before I do, and likely in tandem with the arrival of our enemies based on their current location, but I will be there as soon as I can with reinforcements.

Stay safe.

_[no closing]_

_[no postscript]_

* * *

**Date: November 22, 1186**

How easily a once comforting memory transformed into a tormenting one, a poison more potent than any Hubert could ever craft.

_ White fabric lost in orange hair._

How lost? A finger… a palm?

_ "You will have much to do while I am gone, Hubert." An ensuing sigh. "So much to do, that I fear you will forget me completely."_

Ferdinand had been pouting, but was his expression sad? Playful? … Why could Hubert no longer see it clearly?

_ "I can assure you, Ferdinand," he'd drawled, only drawing out the words because he was loathe to say goodbye to the man before him. "You are entirely unforgettable."_

Did Ferdinand then lean in to kiss him goodbye, or was he the one who'd leaned? Damnation… Hubert could recite all the different places in Fódlan where one might find foxglove by heart, and yet, somehow, he could not even recall who'd initiated their last kiss…

But memories weren't meant to withstand the decay of time - they were _ meant_ to be replaced. How often had Hubert sewn together the delicate fabric of an event that had occurred in the past, content to do so as long as new ones continued to filter in… his mind constantly filling with orange, a haughty voice, and sweet lips, with tea and coffee and irritation, and _ love_. But if Ferdinand was… if that flood were to stop, then the integrity of Hubert's remaining memories suddenly became much more important, and why, _ why_ did he not recall who had kissed whom, whether Ferdinand had tasted like dried fruit or pine needles, if his hair had-

"General! I can see survivors!"

Hubert's eyes snapped into focus and he squinted at the wreckage. But first, he willed his heart to steady, threading the delicate balance between the hope he needed to hold himself together, and the false hope that would destroy him if the worst came to pass.

_ Please. I will do anything if you let him be among them. Please._

Yet he did not know to whom he was imploring - it had been all too long since he'd prayed to any goddess. 

The large, dragon-like creatures were what he made out first - _ wyverns_. So, he _ hadn't_ been hallucinating earlier - the survivors had been part of a wyvern squadron.

Then, maybe…

But as he got closer, he couldn't see Ferdinand's discernible orange hair among the gathered survivors. He double checked. Triple checked. Checked again and again, his perceptive eyes flitting from person to person until he became dizzy from the strain.

Did he really have no sense of self-preservation, to continue riding toward the fort when he knew what news was awaiting him? After all, until Hubert actually confirmed anything, it was as if Ferdinand wasn't truly dead - at worst, he was in a concurrent state of both dead _and_ alive.

Still, as ever, the pull of fate was too strong to fight, and when he eventually reached the fort, Hubert rode to the first person he saw, staring down at the man.

"Where is General Aegir?”

His words must have been harsher - more demanding - than intended, because the man withered beneath his gaze.

“I… I’m afraid I don't know, m’lord."

And, there it was.

As if the blood had rushed from his head all at once, Hubert abruptly felt faint. Were he not on Áine, he was certain that he wouldn't have remained on his feet.

“Killed in battle?” he inquired, but he barely heard himself speak as his eyes brushed over the debris of the collapsed fort. “Or… missing?”

Was there a difference? Would more false hope that Ferdinand was alive somewhere in this pile of rubble really stave off the inevitable anguish?

“Oh, n-nothing like that, m’lord. The general was leading our squadron in the air when the javelins hit, and we… well, we were the only survivors. But after the attack he disappeared, commanding us to focus on rescue efforts in his absence.”

Hubert blinked once, twice - several times - trying to register the man’s words.

At first, he was merely fighting the urge to snap the soldier’s neck in half for giving him the worst scare of his life… but ultimately, he settled on the only thing that mattered.

Ferdinand was _ alive_.

And suddenly, Hubert felt as if he could breathe again.

“Very well. I will see to finding him.” Ferdinand couldn't have gone far, after all, or they would have spotted a wyvern in the air on their way to the fort.

Hubert barely had the wherewithal to command the soldiers he’d brought to assist in the rescue efforts - as useless as such efforts were, since no one would be alive in this wreck - and to ensure that Ferdinand’s men were provided with ample food, drink, and any other needs. Without sparing another unnecessary second, he then spurred Áine forward and zigzagged through the debris of what used to be the fort’s substantial perimeter. But, strangely, it almost seemed as if Áine were leading the way - perhaps able to smell, or even sense Ferdinand.

And finally, _finally_, Hubert saw him, kneeling next to a pile of rubble as he wrested away debris piece by piece.

There was an untended gash on his face… and he had a bloodied lip. He was more covered in soot than not.

But he was alive… _ alive_.

Hubert dismounted, yet before he could run to Ferdinand, the blasted horse beat him to it. Neighing almost frantically, Áine kept bouncing his snout into Ferdinand's hair… and being forced to wait patiently while he was most certainly _ not_ feeling patient, Hubert semi-seriously contemplated turning the damned creature into jerky upon their return to Enbarr. (Of course he wouldn't, as the beast was far too dear to Ferdinand - but a man could certainly dream.)

"It is all right, Áine," Ferdinand soothed when the horse refused to relax, but Hubert tensed once Ferdinand spoke. Had he not known Ferdinand better, he might have mistaken his tone as that of someone who was tired, bordering on exhausted. Hubert was well aware that he couldn't even begin to fathom the trauma of what Ferdinand had just experienced, but even so, he hadn't expected Ferdinand to sound… so empty, so _ lifeless_.

His worry for Ferdinand had already been gnawing at him to a most uncomfortable degree, but now he was growing anxious… and if that damnable horse didn't move in the next few minutes, Hubert was certain that he'd blast the thing into another realm entirely with one of his spells.

"That's enough, Áine," Ferdinand finally said, to Hubert’s great relief. "Now, go and eat." The horse whinnied in protest when Ferdinand pointed to a nearby patch of grass - one that his Wyvern, Finn, was currently sleeping in - but Ferdinand slapped the horse on its rear. "Go on - get!" 

Well, at least the obstinate beast finally listened… but what now? What should he say?

“Hmph… all these months away, and he still thinks of himself as yours,” Hubert noted, opting for levity.

But Ferdinand only shook his head. “It is foolish of him,” he stated, not looking at Hubert as he spoke. “He is not mine… he has not been for a while, long before I came here. In fact, all the things I have ever wished to be mine never truly were.”

His words gave Hubert pause. Was he referring to…? 

“Ferdinand-”

“We both know you did not come here to speak of horses, Hubert.”

“… No, I did not,” he agreed.

“So then, why did you come?” Ferdinand finally looked at him, his usually bright eyes presently lackluster and dull. “Surely not because you were worried about me, as ‘we must rise above such personal feelings in our service to Her Majesty.’”

Hubert swallowed. “Ferdinand-”

“Then it must be that you were sent by Edelgard to provide reinforcements - but, as you can see, there is nothing left to reinforce. So, do you plan to berate me for such a spectacular failure? I would imagine Edelgard will be quite irate by the loss of her fort.”

“Ferdie-”

“In any case, perhaps it is too late to spare you the trip, but I will spare you the breath. Consider this to be a formal announcement of my resignation.”

Despite his desire to be gentle - to be careful - while Ferdinand was in such a fragile state, Hubert felt his eyes narrow.

"Your resignation?" he repeated. "From what, exactly?”

“From all of it. My post in the army… my post as Prime Minister. Just… all of it." 

“… I do not accept. Neither will Her Majesty.”

There was a bitter laugh that Hubert could barely even distinguish as belonging to Ferdinand. 

“Goddess, just look around you, Hubert! The fort I was meant to defend has evaporated into dust, as have… as have all the people within it. What more convincing will it take? Shall I write it in a letter, perhaps? I do know how you so love protocol and formality."

“This,” Hubert spat, “was not your fault. You couldn’t have-”

“I could not have stopped it? Perhaps you are right,” Ferdinand agreed. “But hundreds of my soldiers are dead, Hubert - dead! Brave men and women, whose lives I was responsible for. Some of them… many of them were my _friends_.”

Ferdinand shook his head. “No, perhaps I could not have stopped this, but… I could have at least paid them the courtesy of dying along with them.”

A chill shot down Hubert’s spine. “You don’t mean that. Ferdie… it isn’t like you to be so defeated.”

Ferdinand’s eyebrow shot up, the angle of its arch accentuating his annoyance. 

“Is it not? Well, I am sorry for constantly disappointing you, General Vestra. Just another failure to add to your growing tally, I suppose.”

Damnation, that wasn't what Hubert had _meant_… but he'd never met anyone more unflappable than Ferdinand, and it was immensely unsettling to see him like this. And aside from that, it had been so long since Ferdinand had spoken to him with such venom in his voice.

… Then again, they’d all been playing at grown ups for so long that it was easy to forget just how young Ferdinand was - he only twenty-four years old, far too young to have to shoulder this kind of weight. But what could Hubert possibly say, or do, to make _this_ better?

“Will you not tell me why you are here then? What you want?” Ferdinand pressed after a long silence. “The sooner you do so, the sooner you may leave. I wish… I wish to be alone.”

Was it really not obvious why he was there?

“What I want, Ferdinand,” Hubert growled in response, "is for you to come _ here_.”

Ferdinand turned sharply, and through the surprise, Hubert could see hope… need. Whether or not Hubert’s need was reflected in his own eyes, he couldn’t say… but regardless, he could feel it burning within him. And since he was no longer willing to let Ferdinand dictate such hostile terms for this encounter, Hubert took a step forward, then another.

Thankfully, Ferdinand followed suit, and it was only a matter of seconds - one, two, then finally, three - before they were holding each other. Never in his life had Hubert been more aware of his arms, wanting to wrap them around every inch of Ferdinand - his warm skin, his strong heartbeat, reminding Hubert that it was an assuredly _alive_ Ferdinand. And when Ferdinand then pressed his head against right above Hubert’s collarbone - perhaps not quite able to reach the crook of his neck - Hubert’s open palm slipped up from the base of his head until it was fully buried in hair, white cloth yet again weaving itself within soft orange, right where it belonged.

It was downright blissful… that is, until the sound of faint sobs reached Hubert’s ears, and he felt himself going completely stiff. Hearing the muffled cries and feeling Ferdinand shake in his hold strangely made it seem as if the pain were his own.

Hubert's fist clenched, causing him to grab a handful of Ferdinand's ginger tresses. Thales… Thales would die for this, he would _suffer_, for hurting Ferdinand in this way - Hubert would assuredly see to that. Yet, for now, he wished he knew what to say, what the right words were at a time like this. Damnation… he'd just never been one for comfort or condolences - and that had always suited him perfectly fine - but now, he felt so utterly useless. Still, he simply couldn't bear this anymore, and he had to try _something_.

Clearing his throat, Hubert removed the hand embedded in Ferdinand’s hair and patted him lightly on the back.

“There, there.”

The hastily muttered, deadpan words strained awkwardly against his throat, sounding insufficient and trite even to his ears. Yet, at least his attempt to provide comfort was adequate enough, as Ferdinand quieted almost immediately.

Or, well, so he thought… that is, until Ferdinand started to shake even more forcefully against him, his muffled noises only growing louder.

Oh, for hell’s sake, had he actually managed to make things _worse_?

But when Ferdinand pulled his head back, Hubert realized that he was, in fact, now laughing - or, to be more accurate, some odd mixture of laugh-crying.

“There, there?” Ferdinand repeated, practically coughing as he spoke. “Did you really just…? Oh, dear heavens, Hubert. My sides…”

Hubert’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Ferdie, I… I've never really done well with… well, with any of this. I suppose I'm not much of a suitor, am I? You deserve-”

But Ferdinand only put his hands on Hubert's cheeks to pull him in for a kiss, and this time Hubert seared it into his memory, vowing never to forget all the exact details of at least this _one_ kiss… of how the wind caused Ferdinand’s hair to tickle his face, or how strange it was that Ferdinand tasted faintly of coffee, as if he might have been drinking it before the battle had begun.

“You know,” Ferdinand began after they pulled apart. “You are better at this than you think. You made me laugh, did you not? Besides, the most important thing is that you are here. I did not speak truthfully before when I said I wanted you to leave."

The light soon faded from his eyes, though, his body stiffening in Hubert’s arms.

“However, I suppose I owe you an apology… I should not have kissed you. I know that we are supposed to be broken up.” 

“No,” Hubert insisted, pulling him closer. “That's not what I want, not now, and not then… I was foolish - I was _wrong_ to suggest that. But, it's just that I… I've never felt this way about anyone, and the way these feelings completely consume me is… utterly terrifying. You're always in the forefront of my mind, and… damn it, Ferdie, but I haven’t known a day of peace since I met you.”

Ferdinand looked up at him, seeming wary. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“I don’t know,” Hubert admitted. “All I know is that I need you. That I… love you. And if I can’t be with you, then everything else I've worked for in this life is pointless - meaningless. Because I'd always thought that if one thing was certain, it was my path in this world… but now, it feels as if it were only you that I’ve been heading toward this entire time."

"Hubert…"

Thankfully Ferdinand seemed satisfied by his response, but suddenly feeling uncomfortable - vulnerable - Hubert cleared his throat. 

“Can you forgive me then, Ferdinand?”

Nodding, Ferdinand turned his gaze toward the wreckage.

“Yes. Because I love you… and because I do not think I could bear this without you.”

“And I couldn’t bear anything without you.”

They held each other for a long time, both giving, both taking, everything they needed from each other.

“Ferdinand… have you eaten?” Hubert then interjected, pulling away to inspect the worn man in his arms. “We brought supplies with us, you know. Let me take you to-”

“Later,” Ferdinand commanded, waving his hand dismissively. “There is still work to be done here… there may still be some survivors.”

Hubert wasn’t sure if Ferdinand truly believed that - and if he did, then for once, Hubert didn’t have the heart to argue with him. So instead, as Ferdinand knelt down and began to clear away the rubble once again, Hubert only knelt beside him to help.

Ferdinand paused to look at him. “Won’t Edelgard be expecting to hear from you?”

“Yes,” Hubert confirmed. “But that can wait.”

To his surprise, Ferdinand then leaned over, resting his head on Hubert’s shoulder. But Hubert quickly wrapped his arm around Ferdinand, bracing him into the side of his chest.

“It’s all right,” Hubert assured him. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere… not this time.”

Not ever again.

After all, fate had been so kind as to give them another chance at a future - a postscript to the story that he’d feared had reached its end… and Hubert would do everything in his power to see that it was written.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who know of the Z. Tangi joke (of Ferdinand sending suggestive artwork to Hubert while they're apart, and Hubert growing insanely jealous), this fic was actually the origin of that idea. Eventually the Z. Tangi concept took on a life of its own, and it's probably the best thing to come out of this fic… [I strongly urge you to go look at ROM's amazing artwork (CLICK HERE)](https://twitter.com/RoslynnMena/status/1211041252906590208) if you haven't seen it already!
> 
> (P.S. For those of you who _don't_ know the joke, Z. Tangi = Ignatz spelled backwards 😅)
> 
> \---------------  
Come say hi on Twitter! @fancy_plans


End file.
